


Wizard's Gambit

by AngeliaDark



Category: RWBY
Genre: Gen, Huge gambits, Light and Dark≠Good and Evil, Overpowered Jaune Arc, So sorry Oscar, Strength in division?, You done messed up Ironwood, new reincarnation, questionable morals, siding with the enemy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:01:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22756723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeliaDark/pseuds/AngeliaDark
Summary: Oscar's aura broke during the altercation with Neo, leaving him with nothing to protect him from Ironwood.  Ozma has a new reincarnation, someone who's had enough of losing those he cares about.Someone with a plan insane enough to work, at the cost of his own humanity.
Relationships: Jaune Arc & Ozma, Jaune Arc & Salem
Comments: 13
Kudos: 117





	1. Chapter 1

_"James is what my friends call me. To you, it's General."_

The last words Oscar heard before the air was thrown out of his lungs by a sharp pain, and he felt himself falling.

Oscar sometimes wondered what dying was like. General human queries after the idea gets into one's head, maybe after seeing a squashed bug or an injured bird in its death throes. Was it like going to sleep? Feeling tired? Did it hurt?

To Oscar, he had his answer. But he was sure his answer was as unique as his circumstances. The pain of the gunshot wound was stuck in time, keeping a dull hold on his pierced heart that only tightened by each passing moment. The feeling of falling was suspended, only the brush of air over his body letting him know otherwise. Tunnel vision, a deafening rushing in his ears, and a spreading numbness that expanded from his fingertips inward.

The worst part, Oscar thought, was the inevitability of it all.

_'I just wanted to help. I just tried to help. Just a couple hours ago, we were working together. Why?'_

He tried to take in a breath but couldn't, his insides locked tight in preparation for his demise. It only made the sob that escaped his throat all the more painful knowing he couldn't breathe in anymore.

Falling down his cold metal shaft, dying alone in his failure.

Dying.

 _'I don't want to die!'_ More precious, irreplaceable sobs left his chest, tears blurring what was left of his vision. _'Please, not like this! Not from this! Please! Oz! Help me!'_

The numbness spread to his insides and his vision darkened in front of him, only a soft glow of gold aura in the edges remaining. 

_'Please...'_

_'....Oscar!'_

It felt like more air was being pulled from him, only it exhaled from his entire body rather than his lungs. What made it more unbearable was the sensation that it was almost clinging fruitlessly to him, clawing in and fighting to not let go.

_'Oz...please...'_

_'Oscar, hold on!'_

_'I can't. I want to. I can't.'_

_'Oscar!'_

_'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!'_

_'Oscar, no!'_

_'I'm sorry.'_

_'OSCAR!'_

One last breath left Oscar's frozen lungs, and with it was sent a gold and green aura, and a scream of agony that sounded thousands of years old in pain and torment.

In one last effort of defiance, a clash of light enveloped the boy as he hit the bottom of the Vault shaft, one last meager offer of dignity before the light vanished and all went silent.

"...where's Oscar?" Yang asked JNR, her voice almost shaking from the immediate implications. "...and the Relic?"

The three sat almost brokenly against the wall of the ship, in varying degrees of mental and emotional pain as none of them said a word. Blake and Yang looked at one another, finding it best not to push as they directed Maria to where Ruby's scroll signal was indicating.

Jaune tightened his arms around his knees, feeling his chest tighten hard as a horrible sense of déjà vu overcame him. Being left behind as a partner ran ahead to face the uncertain. Knowing in his heart that something was wrong. 

Being unable to do anything about it.

He clenched his teeth tightly to keep from losing his cool, to be the pillar, the leader his teammates needed to be, and fought the powerful ache in his chest that threatened to burst out.

It was only a half-moment's realization that the ache was something completely foreign and not going away before it suddenly exploded from his chest and enveloped his entire being, almost throwing him back against the wall by the force and startling the ship's other occupants.

"Jaune?!" Nora yelped, leaning away from the sudden movement, feeling a sense of dread when she saw a look of complete terror over Jaune's face. "Jaune! What's wrong?!"

**_"I am DONE letting others' inability to see the big picture get in the way of doing what's right! Robyn! The Council! This kingdom! Even YOU!_** "

"What's going on!?" Blake demanded, kneeling in front of Jaune, reaching out to take his face in her hands. Jaune's face had gone death pale, eyes wide with an unseen horror in front of him.

_**"Then you're as dangerous as she is, James."** _

_**"James is what my friends call me. To you, it's General."** _

Jaune let out a strangled scream, his hand flying to his chest as he doubled over in phantom pain as secondhand memories, emotions, and sensations enveloped his body. 

He was falling. 

He was scared.

He was dying.

_**'I'm sorry.'** _

_**'OSCAR!'** _

"OSCAR!"

Blake was thrown back when Jaune's aura almost exploded outward, rattling the ship as he was almost prostrate kneeling on the floor, slamming his fists to it over and over as his own familiar pain -the pain of knowing death had claimed someone else- washed over him.

These memories were Oscar's.

This pain was Oscar's.

This voice was Oscar's.

...and Ozpin's.

Jaune came back to the present, almost deaf to his friends' cries of confusion as the realization settled in his gut.

"...Ozpin." It was hardly a breath of the word that left him, unheard by the commotion of the ship and its other occupants and muffled by his forehead pressed to the floor. "...tell me...it's not true."

There was nothing but his own ragged breathing in his muddled hearing for the longest time.

_'...I'm sorry.'_

...

...

...

...

...

Something inside of Jaune broke into a thousand pieces.


	2. Chapter 2

_'...I'm sorry.'_

The painful realization was almost too much for Jaune to comprehend. Ozpin was here, inside of his own mind, with a foreign aura curling around his own. Memories that were not his, EMOTIONS that were not his, and a bitter absolution that didn't even have his consideration fell heavily on his shoulders.

It was all he could do not to scream.

"...no...!" he choked out, shaking his head. "...take it back...take it back...!"

_ "I...can't." _

Jaune wasn't aware of the hands that were attempting to hold him upright, nor voices calling out to him with worry. All he could feel were the emotions, all he could hear was Ozpin's sorrow, regret, helplessness.

All he could think was WHY.

Why did Oscar leave? 

Why did Ironwood heartlessly kill him?

Why did Ozpin do nothing to save Oscar?

And WHY was this curse brought to HIM?

_ "I'm sorry." _

_ "I can't." _

Empty words, USELESS words that didn't mean anything or help anything, after everything that was done, all the lies and half-truths that were told, all the knowledge and help that SHOULD have been there being lost behind an apology.

Because Ozpin -Ozma- had given up.

Given up on Salem, on humanity, on making sure a life barely lived had even survived a YEAR after being chosen to take it over.

Given up, and left everything to people who had nothing to do with an eons-old clash of titans, to people like Ironwood, people like CINDER, to have half a story and huge enough egos to try to wring everything they could out of it.

It was cruel. And it was wrong.

And Jaune was tired of being a plaything between those two titans of power.

That revelation gave birth to a new one. A frightening one.

That titan of power was within the grasp of his own aura, now attempting to wind around to take over.

Pain and fear gave way hotly to anger. 

**No.**

His fingers clenched against the floor of the ship, that anger being his anchor of focus as his own aura grappled the new invading one in its own stranglehold. This was HIS body, HIS aura, HIS life. If ANYONE was going to be submitting, it sure as hell wasn’t going to be HIM.

_ ‘Jaune, stop!’ _ Ozma’s voice echoed through his head.  _ ‘This won’t work, you need to calm down- ‘ _

_ ‘SHUT UP!’ _ Jaune snapped back, his anger only growing.  _ ‘YOU don’t get to tell anyone anything anymore!’ _

_ ‘Jaune-!’ _

_ ‘I’m done with you. Be quiet.’ _

_ ‘PLEASE!’ _

**_‘BE QUIET!’_ **

It wasn’t seen by any of the others on the ship, the wrestling of auras for control, but it was FELT. Almost distracting Maria from spotting the hole in the wall of the military base building where Ruby’s signal was coming from, and of Yang hurrying to the door to meet up with them.

The confusing devastation before them -ice everywhere, Winter beaten and broken on the floor, an elderly woman being tended over by Ruby and Penny- was too much to take in and question at the moment. 

“We need to go!” Ruby said urgently, standing and hurrying onto the ship. After a moment’s hesitation, Penny followed. Closing in, Jaune could FEEL something from Penny, a difference in aura.

No. An ADDITION to it, like his own.

Winter Maiden, his own mind and the inherited memories provided; the Winter Maiden was safe, here, leaving, and that meant the Staff…

Ironwood wouldn’t have it.

He wouldn’t have the very thing that Oscar had just been killed for.

Feeling the ship rev up again, Jaune made a quick-flash decision.

He jumped up and leapt out the doors into the iced room, turning back to the others inside. “Maria, go!” he called to her, leaning back as the others all-too-late reacted to his decision, Ruby reaching for him as Yang and Ren held Nora back from jumping after him. Bless that old woman, he thought, for obeying and shutting the door.

“JAUNE-!” Ruby’s cry was cut off by the ship taking off, leaving Jaune standing there with the weight of his decision weighing on his shoulders. Any certainty left with the ship, leaving him with the unknown to deal with. 

Perhaps it was his anger, he thought, turning into the room to look over the remaining two occupants, but he found that he didn’t fear what that unknown was. 

He just had to go what what he did know, and what he did have brewing up in his plans.

Jaune stepped over to Winter, giving the elderly former Maiden a passing look of regret before kneeling down, reaching out with his hand despite Winter’s suspicious glare and reach for her sword, and let his aura out.

Before, his aura only brushed over the surface of others’, amplifying it out. Now, he could feel a difference. A DEEPER difference. He felt EVERYTHING.

Physical ( _ five broken ribs, internal bleeding, lacerations, burns, bruising, broken arm, fractured pelvis _ ), emotional ( _ confusion, regret, anger, worry _ ), and mental ( **_‘_ ** **_What did I do what did she do what do I tell General Ironwood why did Penny leave what is he doing.’_ ** )

The physical was being mended almost effortlessly easily, the lacerations and bruising vanishing before their eyes. Winter sat up on her own, staring at her hands before looking to Jaune, brow furrowed in confusion. He couldn’t have stayed behind only to heal her. That was illogical, almost daftly so.

So why.

Jaune left the rest up to her to mend, stoically reaching down to unlatch his sword and scabbard from his belt and hand it over to Winter just as the reinforcements she’d called in arrived. He found himself surrounded with guns trained on him, and he lifted his hands compliantly, wrists together.

“...I want to turn myself in to the General.”


	3. Chapter 3

Winter was silent as she watched Jaune Arc be cuffed and his weapon confiscated, all without a fuss. Nothing was making much sense, and even the pieces she was putting together from reports all around the Academy base weren’t much help.

Apparently the Ace Ops were down and out near Ironwood’s office foyer. The rest of Jaune’s team had given the security team a run for their money before leaving on a ship. No word yet on where Qrow was.

And through all that, Jaune and ONLY Jaune had voluntarily surrendered. Above that, he’d taken the time to heal her and give a steep advantage against himself. Was he hoping for a plea bargain? 

Doubtful, she thought, sending a message to Ironwood with a heavy heart. He didn’t seem to be the type to sell anyone else out. And he’d told them to go on rather than sabotaging an escape.

Winter hoped she’d get answers once she reported back to General Ironwood.

As she led the way to the secure holding center, giving directions and orders, her mind strayed to the message Ruby had shouted in distress before being cut off. To the debate with Penny over orders and emotions.

She agreed with Penny. Abandoning Mantle was, in her heart, cruel and wrong. But the General would not be resorting to this without a very good reason.

She found herself glancing back every so often to look at Jaune. The boy had remained silent and stoic. While he was following her lead and orders, ‘surrender’ or ‘defeat’ were not words she would describe his demeanor. His expression was hard as stone, eyes like blue glaciers. He looked like a Sabyr, emotionless and tense, and Winter felt her instincts of self-preservation scream at her to not make it any more dangerous for herself than she had to be around him.

Contextually speaking, for months Jaune had been traveling with the remnants of his team plus Ruby encountering danger they should never have been facing, having knowledge of the evil that took away his partner and teammate that kept popping up everywhere, fighting the entire time to get here to Atlas, where things should have been better with the comforts of having a better support system.

...a support system that turned on him and his team partners. Treating them like criminals. Hunting them down like Salem’s forces had.

Part of Winter wanted to slap herself for even THINKING about comparing herself, the Ace Ops, the General, to Salem’s group...but another part kept tugging her coattails and telling her to wake up. These kids had traveled as much as she had, seen probably more than that, and knew just as much as she did. Clover and Qrow had sung their praises of them being so much more, so much BETTER, being shining hopefuls of beating back Salem’s forces...or at the very least holding the line.

There should have been no reason for the General to put out for their arrest. There should have been no reason for the Ace Ops to have been beaten back for them to escape.

Winter wanted answers. CLEAR answers. But with Weiss gone and the Ace Ops being carted to the medical area, she would have to wait for them.

She came to the secure holding bay, calling for an open spot for Jaune to be put in, before an aircraft landed and opened, guards and AK-200s escorting out Qrow and Robyn. She sighed, knowing how difficult that must have been for Clover to do, and walked over to wait for Clover’s report. 

When the leader of the Ace Ops didn’t come out, she turned to the highest-ranking soldier escorting Qrow. “Where is Clover?” she demanded.

The cold silence that hung over everyone chilled her to the bone. Qrow let out a choked gasp and almost dropped to his knees, having to be held up by guards and Robyn. Looking over, Winter saw that Qrow’s hands were smeared with blood.

She looked over at the ship, feeling her knees weaken when AK-200s carefully carried out a covered gurney, the black covering signifying a death. The sight of it only seemed to work Qrow up worse, the man hyperventilating as Robyn ignored the soldiers’ orders to stay still and quietly raised her hands to cover Qrow’s face, turning it from the gurney as it passed them.

Winter stared after the gurney before turning to Qrow and Robyn, her extremities having gone numb. “...what happened.”

The soldier she had been speaking to stood up straighter, though he was visibly trembling. “...bring it out,” he told an AK-200 unit, who walked back onto the aircraft only to come out with Qrow’s weapon Harbinger.

Almost the entire blade was coated with blood.

Winter felt her heart drop with disbelief; between the blade and Qrow’s literally bloodstained hands…

Her first instinct was to snap orders for Qrow to be sent to the high-security holding center.

But her own doubts in ANY of this happening, being taken at face value, gave her a blessed pause, just enough to really think. There couldn’t be any way in damnation that Qrow would have used his weapon on ANYONE so brutally, and Robyn wouldn’t be having anything to do with a murderer. Still, she had a job, and she hoped at least ONE question could be answered.

“Report.”

The soldier relayed what he had found. “The aircraft Manta 9-3 went down with a distress signal. When we arrived fifteen minutes later, we found the pilot dead and the prisoner cargo gone. Ace Operative Clover Ebi...DOA, stabbed through with the weapon licensed as ‘Harbinger’, and Huntsman Qrow Branwen over Clover’s body with blood on his hands.”

Winter’s hands clenched at her sides. “...and Robyn Hill?”

“She became belligerent when we apprehended Qrow, she was restrained as well.”

Winter turned back to Robyn and Qrow, the former still supporting the latter, who was bone white and experiencing signs of a mental shutdown. 

It was going against protocol just a bit, but Winter wanted a solid fact to give to Ironwood to at very best soften the blow that the fact that the power of the Winter Maiden was gone. She walked over to the cuffed duo, noticing Robyn’s guard go up, and stopped just out of arm’s reach.

“Robyn Hill, hold his hand,” she ordered. Robyn’s guard shifted just a bit, glad she would be listened to as she clasped both of her hands around Qrow’s. “Qrow,” Winter continued, trying to get this one answer out before the man shut down entirely, “who killed Clover Ebi? I just need a name, that’s it.”

Qrow clenched his eyes shut, his whole body shaking as his lips moved without saying anything for several long tries before he was finally able to choke out a word.

“....C...allows.”

Both Robyn and Qrow’s hands and forearms glowed green in truth.

“...my weapon.”

Green.

Through the numb, stricken expression, Qrow’s eyes flickered with a brief flash of rage.

“...James’s fault…!”

It was less noticeable, but as the aural glow faded from Robyn’s semblance, the color was still green.

Winter knew Robyn’s semblance worked with truth and lies, and that it delved into the personal realm at a deeper level at times. While Winter was absolutely sure Ironwood had nothing personal to do with it, Qrow truly believed that Clover’s death was in some way, the General’s fault.

Something else to look into, she thought as she swallowed hard with a nod, turning to the other officers. “Put them in the minor-offense holding bay,” she ordered. “Restraints off. Give them a hot drink and have an available medic sent to look them over.”

Her tone left no room for argument as the two adults were led off, leaving her a moment to think.

Callows managed to get a hold of Qrow’s weapon and kill Clover with it. And somehow, Qrow thought it was Ironwood’s fault.

_ ‘Not somehow,’  _ her conscience prodded at her. A mental map filled in the blanks. Clover and the other Ace Ops had a form of indoctrinated devotion the likes of which rivaled her own, if not moreso. Everything was by the letter within the book. That being the case, the Wanted message for Qrow, Oscar Pine, and Teams RWBY and JNR would have taken precedence over the apprehension of Tyrian Callows.

Robyn wouldn’t have gone along with the plan Ruby had conveyed through the team line on the scrolls, not by a longshot. Mantle was HER home, and she had just gone on the air and PROMISED them safety. This would have been taken as a betrayal, and she would have likely sparked the altercation.

The aircraft went down, and Clover would have tried to apprehend both Qrow AND Tyrian instead of focusing on Tyrian alone. 

Foolish, her logic said. 

As orders dictated, her indoctrination argued.

Tragic, both agreed. Unnecessarily tragic. 

Winter sighed and turned to order Jaune be put into a secure holding room, the order dying on her tongue when she saw the absolute  _ rage _ on the boy’s face. Barely restrained. Raw.

She swore she saw a glint of gold flash over his eyes before the split moment vanished, making her wonder if it was even really there to begin with.

Collecting herself, she straightened her back and nodded to the soldiers. “Secure holding room,” she instructed. “Admit no one else but myself or the General.” At their affirmation, she watched them lead Jaune to the holding cells, a cold not unlike the power of the Winter Maiden’s on her fingertips running over her spine.

_ Dread _ , her brain supplied a word for the feeling.

Winter prayed that General Ironwood would hurry and come fill in the answers she so desperately needed.  __


	4. Chapter 4

Winter stood silently by the elevator, waiting for General Ironwood to come up from the Vault, anxiety prickling over nearly every inch of her being. It wasn’t a good thing, she thought, that he was taking so long to come back up; although the brief news she’d sent by scroll was reason enough for him to be unhappy enough to need composure before making any appearance.

At last, after over an hour of waiting, the elevator chimed and opened, and General Ironwood stepped out, his almost mechanical posture and frozen neutral expression speaking volumes for the effort he needed to appear composed. She saluted and made her updates brief as they walked toward the holding cells.

“Team RWBY escaped,” she said, mincing no words. “The Ace Ops are in the med bay recovering.” She saw a shadow flicker over his face, indicating a grinding of his teeth before he spoke.

“Qrow?”

Winter’s hands clenched behind her back, fighting to keep her voice steady. “...apprehended. Along with Robyn Hill. Tyrian Callows escaped.” She heard his footfalls become heavier, bordering on a stomp. “...and Clover Ebi is dead.”

General Ironwood’s stride stopped dead, his head snapping in her direction. _“What?!”_ His tone, though soft, was sharp enough to cut glass and make her flinch. It was then he really noticed for the first time that despite a lack of any wounds, how torn and bloody her clothes were. “What happened?!”

A loaded question with many different answers, Winter thought bitterly. “...Tyrian Callows murdered him and escaped.” 

Ironwood’s eyes flickered with several emotions running the gamut of disbelief and anger before they settled on brief worry. “Qrow?” His tone was almost afraid of the answer, and she was sorry to give it.

“...fine. And Robyn Hill, though low on aura reserves.” She swallowed hard. “...Clover was murdered with Qrow’s weapon.” She saw his eyes narrow, and quickly added, “Robyn used her semblance when he...told me. That Callows got a hold of it and killed Clover.” 

He clenched his hand tightly, fighting to keep composure. “...anything else?”

Winter mulled over her words for a moment. “Yes,” she finally said. “One of them surrendered and is in holding.”

Ironwood’s brow furrowed. “Surrendered? Which one?”

“Jaune Arc.” Winter became pointedly aware of her right arm, which had been fractured less than an hour ago. “When a transport ship arrived to retrieve Ruby and my sister...he jumped off the ship and told them to go, and then used his semblance to heal my wounds before surrendering his weapons. He hasn’t spoken a word since.”

Ironwood began his trek toward the holding bay again, filing away this information. “I see,” he said. “Perhaps he’s hoping for a plea bargain...no, that can’t be it…” He recalled many times how the boy would point out his tendencies to place the greater good over the individual happenings below it. “Did he say anything at all?”

Winter thought for a moment. “...his wording was...he wasn’t surrendering, per se...so much as turning himself in. To you.” 

He gave a short, curt nod. “...I’ll speak to him. See what he can tell us.” He wordlessly bypassed the minimum and medium security, walking past Arthur Watts’s holding room before arriving at the one Jaune Arc was in and pressing the access code.

The air inside the cell was almost oppressive, like walking into a Grimm’s preferred presence of negativity. Jaune Arc was sitting near the window, hands still bound in front of him, the boy staring out into nothing with only an alert posture letting Ironwood know he was there. The feeling of wrongness that plagued Winter before returned, though she didn’t know if Ironwood picked up on the same.

If he did, he didn’t show it; Ironwood stepped inside, standing a respectable distance away from Jaune Arc. “I’ve been told you would cooperate with your arrest,” he said. “So I hope you will cooperate with your questioning.”

Jaune was silent for another long moment before he turned to Ironwood; behind the General, Winter almost shivered at the steely blue, eyes that almost roared with anger despite a completely neutral face. Jaune said nothing for a few more moments before he spoke.

“Take me to Robyn Hill.”

Ironwood’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

In his lap, Jaune’s hands clenched. “So you’ll know everything I tell you is the truth.”

Winter slowly let out a breath she had been holding, looking between Jaune and Ironwood as the two men stared one another down before Ironwood gave a curt nod.

“I’ll arrange a meeting-”

“No.”

Jaune’s sharp tone put Ironwood on edge again as the boy’s expression only grew colder. “Time isn’t on your side,” he said, something that seemed to visibly rattle the General. “And what I have to say is time sensitive. So take me to her now.”

Winter could almost see the fight in Ironwood’s head to either go by the military standard or the way he found quickest to settle what needed to be done. And at this point with Martial Law being declared, it wasn’t much of a fight to begin with. She stood back as Ironwood gave a nod and gestured for Jaune to stand, taking out his scroll to inform the guards of the low-security ward to make Robyn Hill ready.

The walk to their destination was tense and uncomfortable, with several AK-200s flanking Jaune fully armed. While Winter and Ironwood were both armed and ahead, both kept having the almost overwhelming urge to be the ones to flank instead, knowing that Jaune was staring ice shards into their backs. Restraints and being unarmed be damned, their own aura shields were shimmering with the warnings of danger the boy was apparently capable of committing. Winter flicked her eyes to Ironwood’s right hand, seeing it twitch every so often in preparation for a quickdraw, and prayed that it wouldn’t come to that.

Winter sighed with relief when they finally made it to the holding center, where more AK-200s and guards were waiting with Robyn in their custody. The Huntress looked up, her expression a mix of anger, sadness, betrayal, and shock, her posture went guarded as she glared at Ironwood, hands tightening around her restraints.

“What else do you want, Ironwood!?” she snapped, ignoring the guns pointed in her direction. “How many more people have to die for your insane plans?! Do you even KNOW what you’ve caused!?”

Ironwood’s jaw tightened, eyes narrowing. “You were told the same thing we all were,” he said, making a show of his voice remaining even to convey rationality. “To choose sentimentality over keeping the world from ending -”

 _“SENTIMENTALITY!?”_ Robyn all but screamed, lurching forward and being held back by two of the guards. “You and I stood together and told the people of Atlas AND Mantle that we would protect them! How DARE you call my reaction ‘sentimental’ when you gave Mantle hope and then ripped it away, you HEARTLESS bastard!”

Other than his right hand tightening, Winter saw no other reaction from Ironwood than turning to Jaune, beckoning him forward. “Regardless. Your holding conditions and sentencing will be reduced depending on your cooperation. For now, we need your semblance.” 

Robyn looked dangerously mutinous for a moment before Jaune stepped forward on his own, taking her hands between his firmly. Any retort died in her throat looking at him, seeing the steely look of venomous vengeance she felt in her soul in his eyes. Whatever it was he was doing, she knew this was less of the General’s orders and more of HIS.

Her shoulders slumped slightly, the silent favor Jaune was asking going answered as her hands softly glowed. Jaune tightened his hands around hers before speaking.

“My name is Jaune Arc.” 

Green 

“I willingly turned myself in.”

Green

He gave a pause, his hands almost a vice around Robyn’s own.

“And I know how to retrieve the Staff. WITHOUT the Maiden.”

Green

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how 'bout them new episodes, eh? Hahaaa...someone's gonna die this volume, I just know it.


	5. Chapter 5

The trek to the Winter Vault was tense and solemn, not one person willing to speak a word lest they break out of whatever dream it was that made them hallucinate Jaune’s proclamation.

Opening a Vault without a Maiden. It was impossible, they thought; but Jaune’s conviction and Robyn’s semblance made proof of no falsehood, and with the reports of a huge Grimm horde coming in, Ironwood wasted no time in agreeing to take Jaune in; though, not without a caveat on Jaune’s end.

With time in the balance, Ironwood only put up a mild resistance to Robyn, Qrow, and the Ace Ops joining them in the ride down.

It was mostly a hassle getting Qrow complacent enough to wrangle into better restraints and a gag after launching himself at Ironwood, screaming vengeance and blood before a gun-butt to the head quieted him down. 

That left all of them being squeezed into the elevator for the ride down, Qrow in an extra set of aura suppressors, and Jaune remaining silent as he had been since his request for this menagerie. No one else seemed to want to speak up either, feeling either too anxious or too scared to, which seemed to suit everyone just fine.

The tube gave way to the tunnel, where the soft thrum of magical residue that made up the Vault made almost everyone shiver. As the platform descended, the temperature seemed to lower despite the aural shields, something no one dared to make comment about. It seemed to take ages before the platform finally stilled, and everyone stepped off as one and walked the path toward the door.

“For why I called all of you here,” Ironwood said, turning his head to address those not in the know, “I have been informed, under a Truth semblance courtesy of Robyn Hill, that Jaune Arc knows of a way to retrieve the Relic. Without the need for the Winter Maiden.”

The Ace Ops murmured among themselves as Qrow’s head snapped up, staring at Jaune with wide eyes and an incredulous expression. Jaune gave no indication that Ironwood had said anything, and seemed to be tuning everyone out as he kept walking ahead, only breaking form to turn his head and look out at a platform that jutted out from the main walkway.

Any sound of protest Qrow would have made died in his mouth as he SWORE Jaune’s eyes flashed a pale gold.

Ironwood turned to Jaune, just missing what Qrow thought he saw. “Jaune Arc,” he said in his authoritarian voice, “should you truly open the door to the Vault and retrieve for us the Relic, I will lift the arrest order on your team, and on Team RWBY, though for them to receive a full pardon, they will need to return here, with Penny, and with the Relic of Knowledge. Understood?”

Jaune’s jaw tightened, giving a slow nod as he walked forward, past the Ace Ops and past Ironwood, staring up at the Vault door before he suddenly stopped. 

Everything was silent and still before it was broken.

“....before I open this Vault,” Jaune said, his voice soft yet strong enough for everyone to hear it, “answer me a question,  _ General _ .” He paused, the sound of his hands flexing in the leather and metal gloves creaking. “...where is Oscar?”

The question seemed to echo in the chamber, everyone else turning as one to the General as the man’s expression was schooled into a perfect blank canvas. “...I don’t believe I -”

“Because while we were fleeing from your soldiers, Oscar parted from us. Saying he had something to take care of alone. With you. So I’m asking you…” He turned his head just enough for Ironwood to be in his peripheral. “Where is he?”

The silence that followed was almost suffocating, no one daring to breathe as the proverbial gauntlet was being thrown down with a dare to pick it up. Not knowing where Jaune was going with this, and those that had an idea loathed to follow and see where that train of thought would lead.

Ironwood’s body went rigid as his namesake, expression never changing. “Irrelevant,” he said stiffly, though Winter saw a subtle flex of knuckles from his hand clenching. “You are here to open the Vault for us to retrieve the Relic, nothing more.”

There was another beat of silence as Jaune faced forward again, his shoulders hunched and arms tense. “...irrelevant…” he muttered under his breath, the word bitter and almost hateful. “...that’s what he was to you.” He inhaled deeply, everyone else tensing as their own auras detected a sharp spike of negativity before it vanished just as quickly as Jaune exhaled, his shoulders loosening. “...I see.” 

There was a soft click and clatter, everyone looking down to see that the restraints had fallen undone from Jaune’s wrists, his arms hanging loosely at his sides. When he moved suddenly, the Ace Ops had guards up and weapons in hand before seeing that he had simply extended his right hand out to his side, as though reaching for something. 

The odd gesture gave everyone else some pause before feeling another sensation in their auras; an ominous swell like witnessing a tsunami that only grew in trepidation as the moments dragged on in slow motion. 

Slowly. 

Until.

There was a bright flare of golden aura around Jaune’s body and a clanging sound from deep far below before something snapped into Jaune’s outstretched hand.

It took all of two seconds for anyone in the know to recognize it as a silver cane handle.

A trickle of realization fell over a few of them as Jaune slowly turned around, his earlier mask of neutrality having given way entirely to rage, his hand clenching tightly around the handle.

“I’ll ask again,  _ General _ ,” he bit out, eyes almost on fire. “Where. Is. Oscar.”

From the look on his face and the accusation in his voice, everyone felt that Jaune already had the answer to that. But he wanted Ironwood to SAY it. To tell everyone else.

And while Ironwood still said nothing, Winter could see a flash of panic in the General’s eyes, almost like a pickpocket having his hand snatched. No, she thought, feeling ice in her insides spread as a key detail finally slammed into her upon taking a second look at the cane handle.

_ It was like catching someone holding the smoking gun _ .

Ironwood’s silence seemed to enrage Jaune further, the boy clenching his jaw and lowering his hand before latching the cane handle onto his belt. He was visibly wrangling his temper into a chokehold to avoid it bursting, something that was almost tangible and put everyone on edge as he lifted his hands palm-up, the tsunami-like aura pulling at the atmosphere again.

To Ironwood, Winter, and Qrow, it was a familiar sensation; one they felt when in the presence of a Maiden. 

...rather, in the presence of -

Another flare of gold aura inlaid with wisps of emerald green sprang from Jaune’s body before imploding inward in the space between his arms, and out of nowhere, something appeared that he caught and cradled. 

Some _ one _ .

“...Oscar…?” Qrow’s strained voice trembled at the sight of the boy that had appeared in Jaune’s arms, feeling his legs go numb at the sight of the front of Oscar’s clothes drenched in blood. Tanned skin pale. Unmoving. “ _ Oscar _ …?!”

The sight of the boy overrode the final piece of the puzzling situation laid before them, up until Jaune spoke again.

“You can justify abandoning a city full of children all you want,” he said darkly, eyes glaring in a maelstrom of gold drowned in blue, “but killing a child with your own hands has no justification outside of  _ evil _ . And for that, I’m done with you.” He turned with Oscar in his arms away from Ironwood and everyone else. “...and if any of you had any sliver of justice in your bodies, you’d do the same.”

Ironwood’s neutral expression broke, looking equal parts angry and desperate. “You don’t know -”

“I know EVERYTHING!” Jaune snapped, his voice echoing through the chamber with enough force to make everyone else flinch. “And I also know this. You will never. NEVER. Get this or any other Relic.” He went quiet for a moment, tightening his hold around Oscar. “...I hope your martial law was worth it,  _ General _ . Because I don’t intend on letting you ever forget the choice you made. Or anyone else, for that matter.”

Before anyone could think much on what he meant by that, there was another swell and crash of power that rippled through the chamber, another flash of gold and green, and both Jaune and Oscar were gone.


End file.
